


Fallen Angels of Our Nature

by MarsDragon



Category: Earthian
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Biting, Italics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsDragon/pseuds/MarsDragon
Summary: Raphael pays a visit to Michael in prison.
Relationships: Michael/Raphael (Earthian)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Fallen Angels of Our Nature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rose Argent (roseargent)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseargent/gifts).



The cell was completely bare. Nothing but four barred walls, a floor, and Michael. He sat against the far wall, watching Raphael with casual disinterest. Obviously feigned.

The guard coughed. "Well, here you are, Commander Raphael. Is there anything else you require?"

"Give me the keys, then leave." Raphael didn't bother taking his eyes from Michael. The bright lights washed him out, made him look both sickly and ethereal. They glinted off his bright gold hair and cast sharp shadows over his cheap prison garb.

The guard made some sort of hesitant noise - a protest? - before handing over the keys as requested. He saluted and went back to his post, where he would have the sense to wait until called. Raphael slowly, carefully, unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Michael didn't move. His eyes flickered to Raphael's before sliding away in more feigned disinterest. "I'm only supposed to be visited by family, you know."

"The acting commander has the authority to carry out interrogations." Raphael kept his voice even. This was no different from any of their conversations in Michael's former office. Not at all.

Lucifel's reckless smile flashed behind his eyes and he grit his teeth. Ever since...ever since Chihiya's escape, she had been dancing through his thoughts. If Raphael didn't know better, he'd swear she was haunting him.

"Is that what this is? An interrogation?" There was the faintest edge in Michael's voice, a minute straightening in his back.

"It doesn't have to be." Raphael took a step closer, and another, until he was barely within arm's length of his...his former commander. His dear friend. His... He schooled his expression to coldness. "Now that you've gone and put yourself in jail for life..." 

Michael snorted. 

Raphael sighed and continued: "What am I to do, Michael?"

"From what I've seen, you haven't had any trouble deciding what to do." The edge in Michael's voice had disappeared, replaced by icy calm once again. "I know perfectly well that shouting at you won't do any good, but I will tell you that you're being hasty. Seraphim's disk didn't have a _cure_ for the Black Cancer, you know."

"I know."

"The only way forward is to mix our blood with that of the Earthian. Lucifel was right after all." Michael leaned back, exposing the long, pale lines of his throat. Raphael's gaze was inexorably drawn to the way it moved. "Even if it's risky...it's our only chance." Something that could've been a laugh escaped from the back of his throat. "But that doesn't matter, does it? You already know all of this. And all you need to do is finish your duty and go home. To your _wife_." The edge was back, stronger.

Was it Raphael's imagination, or was that a flush across Michael's cheeks?

The idea twisted in his gut, right next to Lucifel's smile.

"We will destroy the Earth. Chihaya will die to protect it. Is that something you can forgive me for?"

Michael's eyes narrowed viciously, then flicked away. He didn't respond.

A slow, prickling heat ran down Raphael's back, and hehe thought of what he had been very carefully avoiding every step of the way here: _When we get back to Eden, I'll never see him again._

He had been good. He had been _perfect_. He had graduated with honors. He had married the woman he had the highest compatibility with. He had carefully, conscientiously, stayed inside his bounds as a "best friend" and "valuable aide".

And when they got back to Eden, he would never see Michael again.

Lucifel's voice came back to him as if she had just spoken. _"Being separated from him made me understand...that I just can't live without Michael."_

_Damn her._

As if he were in a dream, Raphael took a step forward, and another. When he dropped to his knees, Michael's shocked face was so close Raphael could feel his breath ghost across his cheeks. Long practice kept his voice steady. "It doesn't matter. Either way...I no longer have anything left to lose."

Michael stared at him for a long moment, clear blue eyes wide with a terrible mix of emotions, soft lips barely parted. It was the closest Raphael had ever allowed himself to come to Michael's face. If he leaned forward, just a little, they'd touch.

The moment snapped. Michael shifted, as if to pull away, and there was a definite flush across his face now. It didn't matter anyway. This close, Raphael could smell him. He felt his lips lift in something like a smile and slowly, gently placed his hand on the bars next to Michael's face. "I thought so. You're in season, aren't you?"

"Is that why you came here?" Michael snapped back, caught by Raphael's hand. Trapped. His flush had darkened.

"...no. I came here to see you. No matter what." Because this was his last chance. Because Raphael could feel his own heat spreading outward from his stomach, filling his limbs with nervous energy. Because Lucifel was inside him, goading him on.

"You've seen me. Now leave."

"You're acting childish, Lord Michael," Raphael murmured. Michael shifted again, with another look at the hand that trapped him, and Raphael took the opportunity to move closer, leaning above Michael. He could smell the thick musk around Michael, feel the heat radiating off him. Slowly, gently, he ran his free hand down the side of Michael's face. "Being in season is unpleasant, isn't it?"

"You-!" This close, Michael could surely smell him as well. Their seasons matched up perfectly.

Lucifel's smile, Lucifel's eyes, Lucifel's voice that last night. _"Go out and take what you want. Because there are no consequences."_

He stood on the knife's edge of temptation. One movement, one slight shifting of balance would decide his fate. He could still turn back. He could walk away, go back to his mission, go back to Gabriel, go back to propriety and boundaries and his place in life. He could.

Raphael leaned forward, and without moving, in the space between one moment and the next, fell into sin.

Michael licked his lips, his tongue bright and red. "What's gotten into you?" he asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Your _sister_."

Giving in, falling, and revelling in both, Raphael forced their lips together.

It was everything he'd ever dreamed. He had kissed before. He and Gabriel had a schedule, and kept to it faithfully. But Michael was sweeter, warmer, fiercer, more and more, in all things more. He pressed his tongue into Michael's mouth, sweeping across teeth and gums, trying to go deeper, to devour Michael, to let them become one.

He broke off only when he realised he was dizzy not from Michael, but from lack of air. They parted, gasping for breath, blood pounding in their veins.

"R-Raphael..." Michael's voice was rough, his lips shiny and wet. Raphael couldn't resist kissing him again.

It was just as sweet the second time. Raphael pressed closer, driving Michael against the bars of his cell, until he could feel Michael's heart hammering in time with his own. He felt like he was floating, intoxicated on the sin he had been denying himself for so long. He had known just one sip would be too much and never enough, and so had kept his desires in check. But now...now that he would lose Michael no matter what... He dug his fingers into Michael's soft hair and pulled them together, drinking deeply of the small, smothered noises from Michael's throat.

Until a strong arm forced itself between them and slowly, inexorably, levered him away.

Raphael blinked and looked down at Michael's arm between them, then up to his face. The grim look in his eyes didn't match the dishevelled fall of his hair, or the bright, bitten red of his lips. But when he spoke, his voice was flat and calm. "This is illegal."

"I know."

Michael's mouth twisted slightly. "If I screamed for the guard, you wouldn't just get life imprisonment. You'd be executed."

"I know." He'd made his choice, for good or for ill. All that was left was to play it out to the finish.

There was an edge in Michael's voice and in his eyes, the kind of desperate frustration he got when Raphael didn't instantly play along with his games. "So..."

Raphael leaned in again. "Are you going to call for help?" he asked, whispering the question against Michael's lips.

Michael watched him, eyes narrow, before abruptly looking away. He didn't answer, not even when Raphael pressed another kiss against his slack lips.

"I don't want you dead, Raphael," he finally burst out, sounding furious and miserable. "Just get up and walk away, and I won't tell anyone. We'll forget the entire thing."

"Why?" It was a ridiculous request. Raphael couldn't stop, not now he had finally tasted of the forbidden fruit. Even if he should be cast out of Eden, even if he should be killed, he couldn't stop.

"Because...because this is wrong! We shouldn't be doing this! _You_ shouldn't be doing this!"

Raphael felt his mouth close in a thin, flat line. _Why do you have to be so difficult?_ he thought, an old irritation growing in his chest. "You did it with Lucifel, I know you did. I _saw_ you. Why won't you do it to me?" he said, sharper than he intended.

"Now who's being childish?" Michael snorted and looked away, giving Raphael a good look at the smooth skin of his jaw.

He leaned forward and licked at the spot just below Michael's ear. His irritation faded back into the desperate, painful love, the love that ran through every fiber of his being. A love that danced over the border of obsession. "You can't pretend you don't want this," he murmured against that soft skin. "You've been teasing me for years - always begging for my attention. Now you have it. Isn't this what you always wanted, Michael?"

"You..." Michael's voice hitched, a tremble Raphael could feel against his lips. He shifted his attentions lower, kissing and biting Michael's neck down past the loose collar of his shirt. Michael's scent was thick around them and growing thicker, mingling with Raphael's own into an intoxicating perfume.

Until Michael pushed him away again, still trying to resist their mutual need, and Raphael lost patience entirely. He grabbed Michael's arm and pinned it against the bars above, snarling: "Stop lying to yourself!"

Michael's eyes flickered, and his breath was short. When he spoke, there was the faintest tinge of fear in his voice, a tinge Raphael wanted above all to wipe away. "If I told you to stop..."

"I'd know you were lying." Raphael knew Michael, knew him better than anyone, and he knew Michael didn't really want him to stop. It was just the same old habitual fear - fear of being caught, fear of trespassing boundaries, fear of God, fear of change - Raphael knew them all well, and he couldn't deny the cold chill at the back of his spine at what they were doing.

But he was right. He knew he was. This was no time to hold back, and Lucifel was laughing at his tardiness from hell as Raphael dragged Michael's shirt up to expose his smooth, pale chest.

He kept one hand holding Michael's, stroking the palm and feeling the pulse in his wrist. The other...the other explored the firm, straight lines of Michael's body. Raphael drew his fingers along the edges of Michael's ribs, across his stomach, up to his sternum under which his heart beat double-time, and down, down to his waist, tracing the lines that disappeared into his pants. He drank in all of Michael's reactions, every twitch, every shudder, every tiny motion...the fullness of it dizzied him. Michael panted for him. Michael trembled against the bars of his cell for him. Michael flushed, bucked, and gasped...for him. For Raphael.

Shaking himself, his own heart hammering, heat pooling in his groin with a painful ache, Raphael leaned forward and pressed his lips to Michael's skin, right above his heart. He kissed the dip between the muscles and it...it wasn't enough. A kiss would fade. A kiss was what Lucifel had taken, over and over again. If Raphael was to truly make Michael his...to truly free him from his dead sister -

_"Then steal him from me!"_

Raphael bit down on that perfect flesh with all his strength. Michael yelped, a high, cut-off noise, and his free hand grabbed onto Raphael's shoulder with painful force. Raphael didn't let up. He sucked on the spot, bit it again, and only then soothed the hurt with long, patient strokes of his tongue. Michael's hand slowly relaxed, no longer trying to shove Raphael away, and the noise in his throat was half-pain, half-pleasure.

 _Are you enjoying the show, Lucifel?_ The words wandered across Raphael's hazed thoughts as he began to open Michael's plain, simple pants. _I know you're watching. By now you surely have conquered hell and made it your own, fallen angel, but I, I-_ Michael's breath hitched as Raphael pulled the pants down and off entirely, revealing his long, pale legs, the narrow lines of his hips, and his flushed, wet prick. _I have Michael._

He leaned down and tasted that hard flesh, unable to resist. Michael's hands grabbed at his hair, his scarf, and Raphael couldn't tell if they were meant to be encouraging or resisting. It didn't matter. Michael's eyes screwed up with wild, painful pleasure, his breath came in short, ragged gasps, his fingers dug painfully into Raphael's skull and Raphael knew he couldn't stop. He kissed and sucked at the very tip of Michael's prick, dizzy from lust, his eyes focused on every twitch, every shiver as Michael fell apart in front of him.

Raphael drew back slowly, blood hammering in his veins. A part of him wanted to keep going, to devour Michael completely. Another part of him wanted to press on, to complete his crime, to bury himself so deeply inside Michael that they became one, against all the laws of God and angels.

Michael watched him with desperate, glazed eyes. His lower lip was between his teeth, bitten white, and his hair stuck to his sweat-glazed cheeks. He was so beautiful it made Raphael's heart ache. 

_"Eventually, you'll commit a crime. I'm sure of it."_

He brushed some of the hair back behind Michael's ear, Lucifel's words echoing in his head, and made his decision.

_Is this what you wanted me to do, Lucifel? To just reach out and take?_

He brushed Michael's lips with his own, shivering with desire, and lapped at his soft mouth.

_I hate that you were so right about me. I can't stand it. If you were here I'd stop everything to kill you myself._

His hands undid his belt and pushed his clothes out of the way without his mind getting involved.

_And still...still...I can't stop this. I can't stop touching him. I can't stop kissing him. I can't stop._

Michael's hand landed on his shoulder, holding tight, as he gently, firmly, raised Michael's leg to his shoulder.

_You were right about me all along._

Michael lay spread out before him, ready for the taking. Being in season made everything so easy. Raphael settled himself between Michael's legs and watched with rapt attention as he prepared to move forward.

He was stopped with a firm arm across his chest. "Raphael...I know, I know what you'll say, but this is too far," Michael's voice was low and quick, with an odd roughness in his throat. "After Chihaya and Kagetsuya everyone's on high alert, and any high-ranking angel could come along at any moment. We have to-"

"Sssh." Raphael kissed the protests away.

"The consequences...!"

"I don't care."

Michael laughed, strange and bitter. "I lose my position and you stop listening to me entirely."

Raphael shook his head. It wasn't like that. He was just listening to Michael's body, to his heart, instead of his words.

But that was too hard to explain, so he simply said: "Don't resist. Just lay back, you don't have to do anything." He left _I will take all of this sin upon myself_ inside his heart.

"I've heard that before," Michael gritted out as Raphael pressed forward again, shoving himself inside the tight heat he had desired for years. "From...Lucifel-!"

Raphael growled and thrust forward, rough and fast. That name was the last thing he wanted to hear on Michael's lips right now, now that he finally had everything he had ever desired, now he was tasting in the glorious sin of freedom.

And yet Lucifel's words still echoed in his mind, a last blessing from the devil.

_"Now, pledge yourself only to him."_

And Raphael did, swearing all of himself, all of his love, to the only one he had ever desired. He grabbed Michael's hips as hard as he could, intoxicated with the idea of the shadow of his fingers remaining, and lost himself in the heat, the friction, the delicious slide of his flesh inside Michael.

_"I am your desire. I am...your god."_

And she was, she was, the desire Raphael had nurtured in his heart all these long years finally bursting forth in a frenzied sacrament that dragged both him and Michael into hell.

It was sweet, wonderful, a greater joy than he had ever known, to give in and worship at the shrine of lust. Michael cried out under him, a desperate, bitten-off sound, and the noise spurred Raphael on even as Michael pressed his hand against his mouth to keep any more from escaping. Raphael kissed that hand, the closest he could get to Michael's lips, Michael's hand and his cheek and his neck and anything he could reach as he drove them both along the pleasure-path of damnation.

It was over too soon. The heat, the tension, the lightning-charged desperation that ran throughout his entire body, all united at once and flung Raphael headlong into the blinding white of overwhelming pleasure. He was vaguely aware of Michael jerking under him, hips stuttering helplessly as he chased his own release, and some distant part of him was still coordinated enough to curl his fingers around Michael's prick and watch his face as he came.

He was more beautiful than ever in that moment, and Raphael knew, deep in his bones, that he would burn Eden to the ground before allowing Michael to be taken from him again.

They slipped bonelessly to the floor, wet, sticky, and panting in the aftermath. Raphael couldn't bring himself to care. He laid across Michael, uncomfortable in his suddenly constricting scarf and tunic but unable to move enough to remove them, and slowly combed his fingers through honey-gold hair. Images, plans half formed, rose and fell in his mind: a quiet separation from Gabriel, firing the Metatron on Eden, feeding Michael fruits from the garden, threatening or assassinating the top brass, kissing Michael in front of Lucifel's grave. He'd have to sort through them...later. For now, he enjoyed the rise and fall of Michael's chest, the way his breath stirred their hair, the feeling almost like peace in his heart.

After several long, slow moments, Michael spoke. His voice was distant, directed more to the ceiling than to Raphael. "Earlier, you said you had nothing else to lose."

Raphael made a vague noise of assent. The idea felt a bit abstract now, now he had tasted of Michael and knew he couldn't live without him, but the basics were correct.

"You're wrong. There's one thing left."

Raphael raised his head and gave Michael a sardonic smile. "My life?" If they were caught now, he'd die. The idea didn't frighten him very much.

Michael looked at him with the same unshakable determination that had attracted Raphael in the first place. "My heart."

The station tilted around him. Raphael felt frozen, unable to move, torn from a pleasant reverie to grim reality. It was true. After everything, after steeling himself in every way, there was still one crack in his heart. He could bear anything but Michael turning away from him -

Lucifel's laughter echoed in his ears.

And then Michael's eyes softened. He reached up to Raphael, as if to tuck a few errant strands of hair behind his ear, then looked away. "Not yet. Perhaps I'm a fool, but...not yet," he said, sounding tired and hurt. Raphael could do nothing but stare, lost in a world whose very existence hinged on the man in front of him. Michael's hand curled around the back of his neck, holding him steady and close, not allowing Raphael to look away when he raised his eyes again. "But be careful, Raphael. You're not invincible. Even if you command the Metatron, even if you wipe out the Earthian, even if there really are no consequences...that doesn't mean you're safe. No...it might be just the opposite.

"I meant what I said, you know. I don't want you dead. Not now...not ever." A faint smile slipped onto his face. "You are listening this time, right?"

Raphael nodded, silent. Michael released his grip with a sigh. "Then leave and make your excuses to the guard. I need to clean up."

There was nothing more to say. Raphael stood on legs forced to hold steady, fixed his hair and clothing, and bowed with military precision to his former commander. Michael nodded absently in reply, thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Raphael paused by the door to the cell, turning back to watch his - former commander, dear friend, beloved - as Michael settled himself back in his usual position on the floor. It finally occurred to him, then, that he had done something enormous, something that couldn't possibly be taken back, something that might have been terrible.

And yet, there was a small, secret thrill in his heart when he remembered the bruise above Michael's.

And so he stood there, caught between worlds, unable to stay and unable to leave, until he finally managed to speak, to say something expected instead of all the things he wanted.

"Thank you...for the warning."

With that, he fled.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you need to go full ham on the italics.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to my beta, who you have already figured out if you figured out who I am, which you probably have. Thanks for the prompt, I had fun, hope you enjoyed.


End file.
